Disturbia
by Kakyoshi
Summary: Derek isn't meant to be Alpha. Probably not even Second. He doesn't care. Because he has something else. The others say he's a freak. But, in the words of Peter, he rather sees himself as...special. Besides, who gives a shit what others say, anyway? Certainly not them.
1. Chapter 1

**Disturbia – Prologue**

Derek smells blood and sheer terror and is up and running before he even hears the desperate cry. _Mary_.

While ducking branches and jumping over obstacles, letting his sense of smell guide him, he thinks. Every possible scenario runs in his head, every single thing that could have gone wrong. Dammit, why did his father let Mary and John go in the forest alone?

His two younger siblings were humans. The potential dangers were numerous: falls, attacks by predators...not that much predators risked entering on werewolf territory anyway, but still...

He had tried to talk to his father about it, but the older wolf had been adamant that it was a necessary experience for them._ "They need to learn how to go by without a werewolf at their heels, Derek. They can't become dependent on the Pack for protection. Besides, they know the surroundings perfectly well"._

Derek actually didn't disagree on a theoretical level: being Pack meant family in every sense, but it often meant danger as well. Every member, human or not, had to become self-reliant. He understood it perfectly. Where he _had _a problem, though, was when this motto was applied to two thirteen-years old.

Which had lead him to follow the two youngs from a distance, just to be sure that they were alright, even if it meant going against his Alpha wishes. He hadn't intended to intervene in any way, just observe. Until now.

The voice had been Mary's, which meant the problem probably lay at John's feet. Not that it was surprising, mind you. Derek's mother, Thalia, used to describe John as _« a wolf in spirit if not in body »_, and she was right. The kid didn't fear anything or anyone, always loud-mouthed, arrogant and certain he was right the way only a thirteen year old could be.

It sometimes lead him into rather nasty situations, like the one time he managed to insult Logan, the Alpha of the Callen Pack that was passing through. The resulting mess was amusing to remember now, but at the time, it had been an absolute bitch to deal with. But generally speaking, John usually inflicted his problems on others, created annoyance at best and a gnawing envy to hit him at worst, but it wasn't serious. Not real trouble.

Except the horror he'd heard in Mary's scream said otherwise. She was usually so calm and collected. To make her sound like that...And the smell of blood is becoming more and more pronounced the closer he's getting.

He quickly takes in his surroundings: he is heading in the direction of Great Cliffs, the highest and more steep cliffs of the area. And the most rickety. What the fuck are they doing here? It's dangerous, the even-the-werewolves-don't-come-here kind of dangerous. And emfuck/em, it smells of so much blood...

He pounces noiselessly in the in the clearing, half-wolfed out, ready to fight if necessary, but his nose didn't deceive him. There are only him, Mary, who is crying and clawing at her arms in despair, her eyes fixed on...Oh God.

Derek isn't particularly sensitive to the sight of blood or gruesome scenes but that is...John is lying on the rocks under the cliff, his body twisted in a impossible way, blood splattered everywhere around him.

But that isn't the worse. The worst of it is that he's still alive. After such a fall, every bone in his body broken, some even piercing the skin but he...Derek grits his teeth to hold the nausea back and forces himself to move. Maybe, just maybe, the Bite can still save him if Derek manages to get him to his Father. Quickly. _Very _quickly.

He realizes how quick he needs to be when he crouches down besides his little brother, whose breathing has turned into a half-wheezing, half-coughing gurgle. His lungs are most certainly pierced in several places, and his spine is probably in pieces. At this point, Derek considers, moving John means possibly killing him.

Which means there is only one way left. He'd always through he would hesitate if the need arose. That he would think of himself, maybe be too scared of the consequences to do it...In the end, he doesn't even hesitate.

He turns to Mary, who didn't even seem to register his presence, her eyes glued on her brother's body. Derek grabs her chin and force her to look up. She startles badly, but the hope surges on her face when she recognizes him, and she clings to his arm desperately. "Derek..., "she pants, half-choked by tears, "Derek, you..."

He cuts across her words, because they don't have time. "Listen. I'm going to take John to father, okay? What I'm going to do, it'll seem weird to you, but all you need to know is that it'll allow me to bring him over there faster. Alright?"

She nods bravely, and he smiles at her. "I'm leaving you here because I can't take two when I...do what I'm going to do. I'm going to call the others, you wait here for them. _Don't_ move, are we clear?"

She nods once more but she seems lost and afraid. Derek wishes he had more time to reassure her, but each second he spends here is a second John can't afford. So he smiles at her again, as soothing as possible, and gently extract his arm from her white-knuckled grip.

Then he leaps to John's side, catches his arm. He takes two seconds to howl, calling out to whoever member of the Pack is the closest from his position, letting the urgency color his voice.

And he closes his eyes, concentrate on the idea of home. And _pushes_. The last thing he hears is Mary's scream of fear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disturbia – Chapter 1:**

When Derek opens his eyes, he immediately wishes he hadn't. Everything is tilting and rolling, and generally moving in a very unnatural way. Even his own head and thoughts seem to be twisting in knots along with his stomach.

Well...This answers that. He had never tried to cover such a distance before. And he's not going to try again soon. But, hang on...why did he try in the first place? There was a reason, no? Yeah, an important reason...

He forces himself to bypass his headache and turns his head. He blinks. _Whoa...that's John, no? Shit, he's really in bad shape. Maybe I should do something..._But the considerations seem to be coming from very far, all fuzzy and weak. And John is far, at last three meters. And he's tired, and cold, and queasy...And he's going to back out soon. He feels it. Good. He won't feel so sick when he'll be unconscious. It'll be great. Really.

_But if you faint,_ reasons a part of him, _John is going to die_. For a second he doesn't even process the thought. Who cares? He's_ tired. _He closes his eyes, staggers dangerously on his knees...

The violent impact of his shoulder with the ground makes adrenalin flow his system, suddenly whipping in his blood and throwing him in a state of full alert. His thoughts right themselves and his senses sharpen anew. And that's when he notice it: even with a werewolf hearing, he can barely hear his brother heartbeat. Shit.

_Shit_, how much time did he lost? Minutes? More? He doesn't even know.

Clenching his jaw, Derek carefully gets to his feet. The delay for his muscles to answer makes him want to scream in frustration, but hurrying up won't help anything, as he would certainly fall back on the ground. John doesn't have time for several tries.

Once up and (mostly) stable, he walks to his brother, go down to one knee and slip his arms under John's shoulders and knees. His muscles scream at him, burning so much that he considers breaking a finger to kick-start his healing abilities. But no. It would take to much time to wait for the healing to end.

Besides, he is only twenty or so minutes away from the house. The second the Pack will smell blood, they would be here to help. He just need to hang on and walk (he doesn't even dare to think of running) for a little longer.

He doesn't know how long he walk, doesn't even know if he's walking straight. He doubts it, but can't make himself care. He's on autopilot: «walk to the house» is the only thought that is left in is head by the time the adrenalin has ebbed away (too quickly). That and focusing on John's faint (oh, so faint) heartbeat. That's probably why he doesn't hear, see, or even smell the other werewolf until the hand closes on his shoulder, gently preventing him from crashing headfirst into the chest of whoever suddenly appeared in front of him.

Another warm hand makes him lift his chin, and Derek recognizes Peter's face at the same time his uncle's scent finally registers. The relief is so great, he can't help to press his face into Peter shoulder. Now that he stopped walking, he doesn't think he can go again. He closes his eyes...and starts when a hand (again?) closes around his forearm, making him turn. He blinks up to his father face. He's saying something, and Derek feels somebody trying to take John away. Out of instinct, he tightens his grip. His father's face flashes with something (anger?), and his eyes suddenly burn red.

The world come into focus around Derek, and then narrows once more, until his Alpha is the only presence recognizable, a terrifying and inescapable pressure. It feels like he suddenly can't breathe, and he whimpers, low in the back of his throat. His father's voice (no, no his Alpha's voice) cuts through everything, resonates all around him, issuing a simple but unshakable command. "_Let go of John, Derek!"_. Derek lets go.

The hand on his arm suddenly vanishes, and he staggers forward, only to be caught by a strong arm around his torso. "Derek?". It's Peter's voice, and he sounds worried. Derek would tell him he's okay, just tired, except apparently he just hit his limit.

Everything turns dark.

The first time Derek wakes up, he feels to weak to even open his eyes, and he can't move. He promptly panics. He can't seem to get out of this...thing around him which is maintaining him on the...bed? _What..._

Fingers suddenly slip in his hair in a gentle caress. He half-jumps (or at last, he does his best imitation considering the state he's in), but the soothing motion and, more importantly, the scent is familiar and family, and Pack.

The constricting thing around him (blankets?) loosen, and he instinctively curls up closer to the warmth and the heartbeat of Peter, letting his uncle presence lull him back to sleep.

The second time Derek wakes up, it's to the sound of an argument. He concentrates to hear better.

" ...didn't have to push him like this, dammit!". It's Peter, and he sounds more angry that Derek ever heard him. His father fire back immediately, seeming furious enough to spit sparks, "He wouldn't let go, you saw it. There wasn't time!".

"He was completely exhausted, James", Peter retorts, "it could have...". His father cuts him short. "Well, since you're mentioning it...why was he so exhausted, brother? Going and coming back from the Great Cliffs, even at full speed and with additional weight, isn't that tiring, after all. How come he was barely conscious?".

There's a silence, and then Peter answers coldly. "So this is what all of this is about? You treated your own son no better than you would an enemy wolf because you fear he used a Gift to save John's life? Because he did, James. He saved him, and you act like he should be punished for it. Had Derek brought him five minutes later, John would have been dead or beyond any help, even the Bite, and you know it!".

"You know perfectly well the consequences of being a Gifted wolf, Peter! It's not normal. It shouldn't happen; our blood and the Arts of witchcraft should never met. It's profoundly unnatural. And the disequilibrium generated is...".

Tired, Derek lets the quarrel fade back in a background noise. He rolls over and blinks at the ceiling, slowly rehearsing what he just heard. He knew the Gifted – the rare wolves with an affinity for magic – weren't really appreciated, but his father's ton just now was beyond disapprobation. It was infused with downright _disgust._

He's not really surprised. Everybody in the Pack knows about the rumor of Peter's real reasons for leaving Beacon Hills: they say he left because he wanted to explore his own Gift, free of the Pack's rules. Of course, the price to pay was to become an half-omega. Half, because Peter still passed trough Hale territory now and then, to say hi, not at all put off by his elder brother glacial welcome and barely suppressed hostility.

Contrary to most of the Pack members who based their attitudes on the Alpha's, Derek never showed any animosity toward his uncle, even after he heard the whole « he's using magic » thing. In return, Peter had welcomed his questions with amusement but patience, teaching him more and more about werewolves, fighting (because he had a plan to land his sister on her ass one day), hunting, and even, on occasion, magic.

The Pack being often concentrated on Laura and David - future Alpha and Second – Derek was more often than not left to his own devices, free to run around in the forest and exercise as he saw fit as long as he stayed on the Pack's territory and came back at a given hour. He didn't resent it, not really.

He'd always been something of a solitary person, less loud and commanding than his two older siblings. He had been more than fine with it, when one day Peter brought him something that made things even better: a book on werewolves, a lot more complete and interesting than whose in the house's library.

At first a little surprised, Derek had nonetheless thanked his uncle, and resolved to give it a try (it was the last he could do when faced with Peter's thoughtfulness). In the end, he hadn't let go of the book for two days, staying home to read instead of going out as he usually did./p

And when Peter next visited, they had launched themselves into a passionate debate on mates' and border's frontiers' merits. They had conversed, argued, and laughed a lot, Derek more at ease in Peter's company than with most of his day-to-day Pack's brothers and sisters. He had been sixteen at the time, and it had been the first of the many half-serious arguments they now had each time Peter came home.

Speaking of the wolf (ha!), he can hear Peter approaching. His uncle probably heard him moving around and decided to check on him. The footsteps stop in front of the door, followed by a very low knock, low enough that Derek could pretend not to have heard if he so wished. But Peter is more than welcome. He always is. "Come in", Derek calls.

Peter gets in and closes the door before smiling at Derek, eyes warm. «Feel better?», he asks, still low, which make Derek frown a little. His answering « Yeah » sound a bit like a question, but seriously, what's the deal with the whispers and all? The other wolf seems to catch on Derek's trouble, because his expression turns grave and he imperceptibly tilts his head to the side, the telltale sign of a werewolf using their hearing.

Visibly satisfied, he relaxes a little and moves closer. "Can I?" he asks, showing the side of the bed. "Sure". Derek shifts to make room, and Peter sits down.

"I won't stay long, you know how you father gets when I outstay my welcome...". He chuckles ruefully, and Derek can't help but smile too, because yeah. He knows. And seeing the Alpha of the Hale Pack that ruffled is a rare sight, indeed. Even if it means life become hell for anybody close.

But Peter quickly sobers up when he adds: "Still, I'm going to stay in town for a little while. We need to speak, Derek. Seriously and out of the Pack's hearing range. I guess you know what I'm talking about?".

"No" would be Derek's knee-jerk answer, but he's always been honest with Peter before, and he doesn't want to start lying to him now. But still, he can't bring himself to say it out loud. So he only nods.

Peter sighs. "Why didn't you tell me?", he asks gently. "I would have helped, Derek. I'm not James". Derek shrugs, and, when his uncle doesn't comment, he says reluctantly: "I know you're nothing like father. But it's...". He swallows, hesitates. But Peter never mocked him, at last never maliciously, so he says what's on his heart since he discovered he was Gifted.

"I love them, Peter. Father, Mom, Laura...even David. And Mary and John. All of them. It's not perfect but...they're family. Pack, and I...I don't want to be forced to go like you did". Suddenly, it's like floodgates opening, and he can't stop. "I don't want to...be alone, real alone", he continues. "I don't know how to, and if father learns it, he will kick me out...So I thought that I could, you know, hide it, and life would go on like nothing happened".

"But there was John, and I knew he would die if I didn't do something, so...I did". He shrugs once more, unsure. He answered honestly to his uncle, yes, but he just also dumped a load of problems on the poor guy's lap. And Peter has it harsh enough with the whole "everybody know I'm Gifted and my Alpha brother and my Pack barely tolerate me" thing.

Peter sighs once more. «What a mess...». He takes Derek arm and begins to trace calming circles on his wrist with his thumb, soft and reassuring. He fixes Derek in the eyes when he says: "I need to go now or your father's going to burst in and throw me out. But we'll talk Derek, I swear, okay? I'm going to find a motel in town, and I'll text you the address. Come when you're better, and when you feel ready".

Derek nods, and manages to squeak out a strangled "Thanks", and Peter squeezes his wrist and murmurs, "Anytime", before getting up.

"Oh, and...Derek?" He raises his head. Peter is staring at him, a strange intensity in his eyes. "Don't try to cover such a distance again, okay? Whatever the reason, just...don't". Derek is nodding when Peter face morphs into a familiar smirk. "Besides, you looked rather pathetic, all Bambi legs on solid ground", he adds, walking toward the exit. "It was...".

Derek hurls his pillow at the closing door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disturbia – Chapter 2**

Derek stretches one final time, enjoying the way his muscles finally answer him normally after four days of limping around. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he straightens.

Five and half an hour at maximum speed before the first aches began. It's good. Not even close to his stamina before – more or less two days, which made him the most enduring member of the Pack, at least among the youngs – but he's confident now that it'll come back quickly with regular training.

He still had to stretch for about an hour after each run to avoid a terrible stiffness the morning after, but...well, he tries to not complain. And besides, the simple fact of being able to escape the house is worth any pain.

The atmosphere over there is suffocating. Half the Pack stares at him like he's going to go on a psychopathic stroll any moment now, and the other half treats him like he will drop dead soon. Not to mention they barely speak to him at all. He swears, if he has to bear one more wary, or worse, pitying look, he will fucking kill someone. Or at least take an hostage.

He's still waiting for Peter's text, but he wouldn't really blame him if his uncle finally decided to spare himself the insanity. Even trough it would mean that he would be on his own to deal with this whole mess, with no idea where to even begin.

He sighs, then shakes his head decisively. He got out to be on his own and enjoy it, not to dwell on how much his family stupidity angers – or hurts – him. He gets back to his walk, at brisk pace now instead of a run. He heads south, towards the river, intent on washing himself up a little.

The scent stops him even before the laughter resonates. He freezes momentarily, and then lets instinct take over, slipping under the wind and getting close without making a sound. He halts in the shadow of an oak, at the clearing's limit, and observes, unseen.

They're all here. All the youngs: Ethan, Tomas, Mary and...John, whose eyes flash blue now and then, all splashing each other heartily. Derek stares. He doesn't even know whether to laugh or cry.

This is...One of them almost killed himself a week ago because they were by themselves, and the Pack let them do it again? What the fuck is that, _How my children almost died 2: the drowning?_

Scratch that actually, _Derek_ almost killed himself and got fucking _shunned_ for it and they are all being happy bunnies without sparing a thought about him. None of them, not Mary not even John, _fucker_, seem to give a shit. He didn't even came check up on Derek.

A part of him know he's being irrational. They're kids and kids are _selfish_ and sometimes downright uncaring, and blaming them is not reasonable. But at this moment, he decides he's the one who doesn't give a shit.

He steps into the clearing, placing himself deliberately in the wind this time, and watches John and Ethan freeze and turn toward him with wide eyes. He can't help the cold smile that stretch his lips as he says, falsely calm, «Can I join in?», while causally stroll forward. The other kids - all humans – jump, and several even fall backwards on their asses.

Derek stops at about four steps from them, and tilts his head a little. «So? Can I join?». The children slowly step back, like Derek is going to try and rip their throats out, and he can't help but showing his teeth, just a little, even as he knows it's probably a bad idea. Actually, the whole confrontation is a phenomenal bad idea, but fucked for fucked, at least he can vent a little.

That's when John step up, and says «We don't want you here», eyes flashing blue, and Derek sees red. Forget the little part.

From his father or mother, distance and wariness hurt, but he gets it. Kinda. They're Alpha and Second, so they have to think of the Pack first. And well, okay, why not? It's not like he's their son or anything...so, yeah, he gets it. Maybe.

From David...they never been that close anyway, so...whatever.

And from Laura, that's probably where it hurts the most, because, fuck everything, she may be future Alpha, but she doesn't have any responsibility yet, and they're brother and sister, dammit! But of course, Miss Future Alpha has to obey and imitate father, and Derek let it go after a few tries. He wasn't going to beg.

But from _John _of all people...and the cub dares to bare his fangs to him on the top of it? Derek growls, low and aggressive, let the shift half take over, features sharpening and eyes flaring dangerously. John takes a step back, fear on his face, but Derek grabs him by the arm, faster than eye can see and _squeezes_, and the rage spills over.

«You ungrateful little son of a bitch,» he spats with more contempt he thought he could ever manage to muster for anyone, "Who do you think you have to thanks for your new shiny little fangs and eyes? Thanks to who do you think you're still alive, huh? If it wasn't for me, you still would be a freaking bag of bones sticking out of skin, covered in blood and splattered all over the rocks! You own me your life, and you dare to defy me and tell where I can or cannot stay? Who the fuck do you think you are, cub?"

He'd ended his vicious speech with his face about three inches from John's, teeth fully bared in the boy's face. Doesn't mean he's not keeping an eye – or rather an hear – on what's going around, and he knows Laura is approaching fast and stopping about two meters behind him long before she speaks. She smells of anger and worry and, more surprising, of fear, a little.

Not that it transpires in her voice when she orders: "Derek, let go of him!". Laura's not an Alpha, not by far, so Derek could easily shrug off the demand, but, well...considering how livid John is, the kid actually seems to have understood his lesson. He lets go rather abruptly, dismissing the boy entirely and turning toward his sister, who is half wolfed out, too.

"What the fuck is _wrong _with you?". Her tone is caught between furious and disbelieving. "What the hell were you thinking, attacking him like that?".

"Wrong with _me_?" Derek laughs harshly and spreads his arms, mocking. "So, out of the whole situation, I'm the one who's in the wrong if I'm to listen to you? There is nothing, nothing at all that you find wrong, let's say, _with the whole Pack_, lately?".

Laura's lips thin. "You don't get it, Derek! You're not Alpha. The repercussions of having a Gifted wolf in a Pack...The story with Peter was already a terrible blow to the Pack's reputation. You have no idea of the number of allies we lost because of it. I know what you think of politics, Derek. But without them, we would be nothing more than bunch of savage wolves".

"No", Derek retorts coldly, roughly, and he knows it's not that simple, has read enough about Pack's diplomacy and rules to know that, but he's too angry, too hurt to try and be comprehensive right now. "No, we would only be a Pack of _werewolves_ who doesn't reject anybody based on what _abnormal abilities _they may or may not develop".

Laura opens her mouth, like she was about to say something, but she finally shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Derek, really I am. But father's orders are very clear. And from the way you acted with John, I'm beginning to think he's right. You're dangerous".

_Yeah, so dangerous, I saved my brother. Terrifying, indeed... _But he doesn't say anything out loud. He feels...disappointed, somehow. That his sister would let him down so easily, just because of rules and her Alpha's orders. Granted, they didn't always saw eye to eye, and fought often, about everything and anything under the sun, but...well, still, he would have thought Pack bond meant more than that.

Still, he tries one last time. Letting his muscles relax and the shift retreat, he walk forward, as nonthreatening as possible. "So I lost my temper with John" he admits, "And what? Can't you conceive that hearing him reject me after what I done for him could hurt? I wouldn't have hurt him, not physically. I just...".

Visibly, that was the wrong thing to say, because Laura bares her teeth and cuts him short. "You just what? Children are the most precious members of the Pack, you know that. They're our treasures! We 'd all die to protect them! There is no "just" in what you did, Derek! It was...".

"I saved his life" Derek snaps. "And I shouted at him. Only _shouted_. Okay, I shook him a little, too, but...Why do you act like I tried to fucking maim him or something?".

"Because you will!". Laura's voice rings out in the clearing, the shout carrying her disgust. But under it, Derek can detect some kind of wild despair, and it makes him hesitate to retort as savagely as he planned.

"What?" he says instead, voice low and laced with disbelief. "Laura, what the _fuck_ are you...? I would _never._.. He steps forward, unsure and lost. His sister instantly steps backwards, eyes trained on him, and he freezes. He sees her swallow, and for a moment, she looks like just as uncertain as he feels. But then her gaze hardens, and any connection they could have found again is broken.

She shakes her head without answering, before gesturing to the children to gather around her. She turns, visibly ready to leave, but Derek's not going to let her go that easily. She has answers, and he needs them desperately.

He steps forward quickly, barring her way, chin up and eye to eye, defiant, to make clear that he's not going to move unless she makes him, and asks "Laura, what the fuck does that mean?", quietly but firmly.

For a second, he believes she's going to actually attack him in order to pass, and he shifts his weight a little, readying himself, but she smiles coldly all of a sudden, and says "Ask Peter, since you have his number. Ask him about the Lauren Pack. I'm sure he'll love to speak of all his kills with you".

When she steps around him, he's so stunned that he doesn't do anything to try and stop her. He sees her and the youngs disappear without really seeing it, lost in his thoughts. For the first time since his Gift appeared, he asks himself if he's wrong to believe that it's not a curse.

He stands here for a long time. When, hours later, his phone chimes with the text that contain Peter's motel address, Derek doesn't know if he should feel relieved or afraid.


End file.
